Guilo

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Yes, yes! I love thee, Guilo; thee alone.

Why dost thou sigh, and wear that face of sorrow?

The sunshine is to-day's, although it shone

On yesterday, and may shine on to-morrow.

I love but thee, my Guilo! be content;

The greediest heart can claim but present pleasure.

The future is thy God's. The past is spent.

To-day is thine; clasp close the precious treasure.

See how I love thee, Guilo! Lips and eyes

Could never under thy fond gaze dissemble.

I could not feign these passion-laden sighs;

Deceiving thee, my pulses would not tremble.

"So I loved Romney." Hush, thou foolish one—

I should forget him wholly wouldst thou let me;

Or but remember that his day was done

From that supremest hour when first I met thee.

"And Paul?" Well, what of Paul? Paul had blue eyes,

And Romney gray, and thine are darkly tender!

One finds fresh feelings under change of skies—

A new horizon brings a newer splendor.

As I love thee I never loved before;

Believe me, Guilo, for I speak most truly.

What though to Romney and to Paul I swore

The self-same words; my heart now worships newly.

We never feel the same emotion twice:

No two ships ever ploughed the self-same billow;

The waters change with every fall and rise;

So, Guilo, go contented to thy pillow.

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler